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The Department of Education published a public letter titled “A National Call to Action to University Presidents and Governing Boards” on Aug. 3, urging university leaders and governing boards to commit to three specific principles, answer a series of seven questions centering on reforms and display their responses publicly by the end of 2026.
More than two centuries ago, textile workers in Nottinghamshire, England, began destroying machinery. This 1811 Luddite uprising emerged amid economic hardship, the Napoleonic wars and disputes over wages, skilled labor and the quality of goods. This machine-breaking was targeted at employers whose production methods threatened workers’ livelihoods. However, the Luddites also petitioned officials, organized public protests and wrote to industrialists. Fundamentally, they were people who understood the machinery they opposed and had specific objections as to how it was being used and how it was affecting them.
Epitome. Queue. Colonel. Buoy. Forte. Fuchsia. The one commonality between these four words is their inclusion on a list circulating on TikTok: “Words my bf can’t pronounce.” It has become a trend for users (mostly female) to film videos of their boyfriends or husbands, who are native English speakers, attempting to pronounce this long list of diverse words. When their significant others butcher the pronunciations, clearly struggling to read the list fully, the creators just laugh.
Remember It’s Buddy!, everyone’s favorite 1990s-style children’s show? Featuring a group of kids, anthropomorphic everyday objects, positive role model adults and a singing animal mascot that teaches important lessons? You might be thinking that this sounds more akin to the hit show Barney & Friends — but Buddy (2026) director Casper Kelly is here to jog your memory.
From working as a full-time, self-employed content creator to returning to Cornell as a full-time student with an 8 a.m. chemistry lecture, Jeremy Scheck ‘22 faces a new reality.
Rep. Josh Riley (N.Y.-19), a Democrat who represents the district encompassing Cornell, Binghamton University and Ithaca College, voted for legislation that would withhold federal aid for universities that engage in boycotts against Israel during a Thursday morning vote.
When I was a freshman at Cornell, Second Dam was the most talked-about swimming spot, perfect for Ithaca’s warmer weekends. I went a full year before hearing about Robert H. Treman State Park, and honestly, it’s the more appealing choice for a day trip — particularly because it doesn’t require climbing 15 minutes down a steep, rocky hill in slippery flip-flops like I did to get to Second Dam during my Orientation Week freshman year. (Yes, it was still worth it for the view and swim, but regardless.)
This summer gave me a taste of what Ithaca is like — the real Ithaca, full of gritty, passionate people. The City of Ithaca shaped by decades of inequality and disconnect from those in power. The Ithaca most students don’t dare to venture down to, spare the Apple Fest and occasional fraternity formal.
Coyote vs. Acme is a tale of unsuspecting heroines and classic villains. The audience is introduced to Wile E. Coyote (Eric Bauza) as an archetypal loser as he fails to catch his nemesis, a bird called Road Runner, with gadgets from the company ACME that continuously malfunction in embarrassing and seemingly impossible ways. However, after watching a commercial for a personal injury law firm named Avery, Jones & Maltese that claims his machines’ mishaps are not his fault, Coyote heads to Albuquerque, New Mexico to seek justice. Upon arrival, Coyote encounters the lazy and dejected attorney Kevin Avery (Will Forte) and his ambitious and bright-eyed niece/intern Paige (Lana Condor). When faced with Coyote and Paige’s desire to pursue a class action lawsuit against ACME, Kevin immediately dismisses the idea as impossible but is tricked into filing the suit by Coyote. The film then follows the trio’s efforts to fight ACME in court as they face internal rifts, the unyielding power of a monopoly and uncover clues that lead them towards uncovering the truth of why Coyote’s ACME gadgets perpetually fail.
For most of us, imagining a world where a pandemic wipes out the majority of humanity unfortunately does not seem so foreign. In Peter Heller’s novel, The Dog Stars (2012), Heller paints a picture of this post-apocalyptic world, riddled with abandoned roads, dilapidated buildings and immeasurable grief. Although Heller’s novel predates the COVID-19 pandemic, the dystopian world designed in The Dog Stars resonates now more than ever. In Ridley Scott’s adaptation of Heller’s story in his film The Dog Stars, released on August 28, Scott reintroduces this fictional dystopia into a post-COVID society.
“The wait is finally over,” announced Martin Tyler — legendary English football commentator — in 2016, for the then-newly released video game FIFA 16. “The world’s most captivating sport returns for another year of drama, intrigue, beauty and suspense. Football is back.”
Let us paint a picture for you. Rewind to our first year at Cornell University. The gang has just spent a lovely night in Ithaca, the vibes are high and the TCAT is on its way. While we wait, we kill time in our favorite late-night eatery: Collegetown Pizza. Now let’s fast-forward to the present, where we’re waiting for the TCAT in the worst possible state: pizza-less.
Nowadays, it is difficult to miss the cacophony of colors that dress electrical boxes, alleys and other formerly bare spaces in Ithaca. But Ithaca has not always hosted such a diverse array of art.
Sun photographers and editors dug through their archives to share a few of their favorite shots taken on assignment. They also reflected on why you should consider joining the department!
Editor’s note: The following is an edited version of an open letter delivered by Students Not Bombs to members of Cornell University’s Board of Trustees.
There is something so appealing about cosplaying as an irritated suburban mother. I love the idea of spending my free time buying out every expensive coffee shop and cursing my husband's weaponized incompetence, all while grappling with the tribulations of Parent Teacher Association politics. Liane Moriarty’s 2014 novel, Big Little Lies, offered me that specific experience when I first flipped through it two years ago. I found the suburban murder-mystery thriller to be such a riveting (maybe even charmingly corny) dissection of the psyche of a middle-class mother that undercuts the long-winded, gossipy dialogue with darker themes grounded in domestic violence and female autonomy. Therefore, I was mildly disappointed with the long-anticipated sequel, Big Little Truths, that meanders away from its predecessor’s core values.
Where do I begin with Chantal Akerman? I fell in love with her after watching Je Tu Il Elle at the beginning of 2026. Then, Jeanne Dielman, 23, Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles was assigned for a class I took; News From Home was recommended to me by a professor, and I discovered articles mentioning her films and the podcast The Akerman Year.
I remember seeing the advertising for Laundry Day’s Saturday night show everywhere on campus, and I remember thinking that their lead singer looked like Andy Samberg and Aaron Taylor-Johnson had a really cool baby. So at 7 p.m. on the dot, I braved the hike up Libe Slope from West Campus to Central, hearing the beginning of Chappell Roan’s “Pink Pony Club” and feeling the bass of the speakers through the thin leather of my flip-flops.
Solutions by The State News
